Reflections
by Julia6
Summary: Vicious reflects on his life and why he is the way he is...


  
  


  
  


It's midday, I'm dry, hot, stifled by fluorescent sunlight, wasting away here, and unable to make any kind of sense out of anything anymore. I've just about given up completely. It seems about three years ago, maybe longer, everything just stopped. And a vast new world was opened, without limit or rules, or guidelines. And the steady path I had been walking down, suddenly became clouded, and lost. 

  
  


For so long I based all my workings on what I had witnessed and how I would differ from the lead, and walk my own way. My strong will, my bright mind, now dulled by chemical, and emotional bludgeoning, is weak, and cold. And like me, struggling for a place to rest. I'm not sure how I got on the other side here. How it was that I adopted the methods of those who would hold back the good, and fuck everything up.

  
  


Maybe it was my destiny, maybe it was my self coming out, maybe its just confusion, or some trance I've been in for the last few years now. I feel dead inside. Empty. All the things I've worked to have are gone. All the validity in my soul is lost. All my strong words, and the backbone of my pride are diluted and thinned away. 

  
  


Just faded along with everything else from the moment I found out Julia had betrayed me.

  
  


I used to write about the sad things that have grappled me down. Now I find I'm just venting about myself. And how I've become someone I wish I wasn't. No more prose, or riddle, no more facade. I hate it all and what I've contributed to the statistic. But most of all I think I hate the fact that I was unable to let myself participate fully in the relationships that could have made a difference in my life. Good or bad, who knows. 

  
  


I've bottomed out before and I can not do it again. It may have seemed so obvious, for the success on one end, and so obvious of the trap on the other. But things are never as they seem spelled out to the world. And so I will go on, without either. Without the lock of a soul bind. Without the ease of a dual income, without the comfort of a life partner. I'll go without because I wouldn't have ever had any of those things anyway.

  
  


Nothing ever changes. Nothing ever changes, _nothing ever changes_. 

  
  


Nothing is permanent, nothing lasts, **love is a joke**, love is suicide, love is an excuse to need someone, an excuse to obsess, or depend on someone, it's a clever disguise for the weakness we all have, co-dependency, it is an excuse for needing affirmation, ego stimulus, its an act we use to get what we need in life. Attention, admiration, respect, and trust. It's a sham. And I choose not to participate anymore. 

  
  


Not that anyone could ever replace **_Julia_** anyway. There could never be anyone else.

  
  


I will not perpetuate the bullshit illusion of love, because it does not exist. It's a lie. I've had to come to that conclusion the hard way. 

  
  


_No one _ever loved me. 

  
  


**_Julia_** didn't.

  
  


And anyone who says they did, is lying to cover up the fact that I was in a convenient spot when they needed someone. I've never contributed to anyone's life, or mind, or personality in a positive way. I never made a difference, or opened any doors. I am merely the blame for the unexpected sad ending to the sham.The disappointment when the lights came on.

  
  


She blames me and so does he. But why should I feel remorseful when they were the ones who betrayed me?

  
  


But I'm tired of being the reason people change their lives. I'm tired of being the hands holding her back, tired of being the reason for her broken heart, tired of being the one thing that was never perfect, tired of being the bag she beat up at the end of the day, tired of being the one she settled for.

I may not have any answers, or logic, or good nature in my body, but I know when I'm unhappy. And I know when I'm being used, and I know when I'm not wanted. It's everyday. Every second of my life, I remember that I am only here as an unwanted guest, an inconvenience to the world, a fucking bastard who is only here to cause pain, suffering and regret.

  
  


_Tell me, Julia, was I just taking up space until he got there?_

  
  


I don't need to hear an answer from her because I know. And don't think I don't know it. I'm as far from perfect as it gets. And I don't care. I'm done trying to hold up my end of the world. 

Fuck it.

If I have asshole painted across my forehead, then I might as well act like one. Love is a fool's fantasy. And, I've played the fool long enough.

  
  



End file.
